


It's So Fluffy He's Gonna Die!

by theotpeffect



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Fluff, M/M, One Shot, POV Lance (Voltron), hairdresser!Lance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-08
Updated: 2016-09-08
Packaged: 2018-08-13 19:45:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,208
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7983877
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theotpeffect/pseuds/theotpeffect
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lance was born to become a cosmetologist. He spent his entire life working with people and most importantly- hair. But the enigmatic regular is by far the person with the fluffiest mullet he has ever had the pleasure of coming across.</p>
            </blockquote>





	It's So Fluffy He's Gonna Die!

Lance had touched a lot of hair during his life. It began with his younger sisters who pestered him for pretty braids. The first time they had asked, he hadn’t known any more than they had how a braid worked - but their mother was working and unavailable for their game of dress-up. So he shrugged and decided to at least try it. He failed miserably, but his sisters paid no mind to the tangles and crookedness.

                They continued coming to him claiming he was gentler with a brush than their mother, although he was hard-pressed to believe such a thing. But he enjoyed it, they enjoyed it so he saw no harm in continuing.

                When his sisters became big middle schoolers they still went to their brother and dragged along a gaggle of their friends.  He was in high school then, and much better at braiding hair. In fact, his skills extended to any type of braid a middle school girl could dream of, with the added bonus of knowledge in curling, straightening, crimping, and blow drying. Needless to say every weekend his room was filled to the brim with giggling girls asking for a hairstyle they had seen once on the Internet. 

                He no longer only felt his sisters’ thick, wavy hair. He felt thin hair that hardly needed any hair spray at all to keep its shape. He felt coarse hair that ate anything that came too close. He felt burnt hair- a result from numerous shoddy attempts with a curling iron.

                It was when he left for his first year of college that he no longer felt any hair at all. He was shoved into a dormitory full of boys with hair too short to do anything with. And even if their hair was longer, they didn’t much care for styling it beyond a faux hawk.

                He missed the texture of hair beneath his fingers, the crow of delight once his work was finally revealed. He had always been unapologetically himself. He had learned when he was young that it was fun to be with both guys and girls. He knew he loved styling hair. But it wasn’t practical- his parents had said. So he turned to business. But there, with his hands feeling emptier than they ever had he realized he wasn’t being himself at all. He had friends who loved it when he did their hair for them, but he only did it when he wasn’t studying, when he wasn’t busy from work, from his classes. And he hated his classes with a passion equal to his love for hair. He was miserable, he realized.

                It was with that epiphany that he quit business, despite his parents wishes and enrolled in a cosmetology school. When he received his acceptance letter he felt all the excitement he never had once he was enrolled in business school.

                When he arrived to his first class he felt like he was home.

 

\---

 

                Lance learned many things when he was in cosmetology school. He learned skin care, nail care, and makeup application. An entirely new world had been unlocked for him and he had never been happier.

                His sisters appreciated it too. Even his brothers, all older than he himself was, came to him when they needed a haircut or when they felt like pampering themselves or his eldest brother’s wife.

                It was a year later that he received his certificate in cosmetology and entered the world with dreams of what he could do for other people to make them feel good about themselves.

                He started at a nail salon.

                His customers loved him. He chattered as he worked, making easy friends- easy paychecks. He loved it there, he really did. He had access to all of the nail products he wanted and he would often snatch up their deep, glittery, blue polish. It was his favorite by far.

                He spent over two years there, learning the tricks of the trade. Learning how to run a business, learning how to please people. But it was an out-of-the-way nail business. It was hidden behind other buildings, hard to see from the road unless a passer-by happened to turn into their complex. A business like that was hard to keep up. So, Lance had been forced to leave and the doors closed for the last time behind him.

                He moved back in with his parents during his unemployment. It was hard, finding work. He did odd jobs on the side. He told his siblings to tell their friends he would do their hair, their nails, their mudmasks for a small price, if only they hired him while he looked for something more substantial. And that was when he saw it.

                Planet Altea was his saving grace.

                The owner, Princess Allura is what she playfully told people to call her, hired him after a quick interview and a friendly word. After a long extended time when he only touched the hair of people he knew well, he began playing around with others once more.

                He was even happier there than he had been before.

                It was about standard size for a hair salon. The waiting room was cozy, with couches that were plush and perfect to lay on when the place was dead. His “office” was absolutely perfect. The cabinet was large enough to hold nearly everything he needed, and the equipment nearly made him weep. The pay was good-enough for a small apartment all his own.

                But not only that, the people there were by the far the best he had worked with. Allura was the embodiment of perfection when it came to hair. Her own flowed regally all the way down to her lower back. It was silver and she somehow managed to keep it that perfect color all of the time. Her curls were something Lance would always be in admiration of.

                Coran, her uncle, worked with them as well. He was friendly enough, a bit odd, but helpful when Lance was stressed. The best part about his own look, rivaling even Allura’s hair was his killer mustache.

                Takashi, or Shiro as he liked to be called, was someone who had been doing hair for a long time. He himself had a shock of white hair that drooped in front of his face whenever he worked. Lance liked the work he did, and he liked Shiro even more.

                Hunk was another person who worked in the salon. He was a sweetheart through and through and he made fast friends with Lance. They often went out together after their shifts, where he became acquainted with Hunk’s friend Pidge. They liked stopping by the salon just to simply chat with Hunk and Lance as they worked, and occasionally to get a haircut of their own.

                There was one other who didn’t work at the salon who caught Lance’s attention as well. He always slunk around when it was time for his haircut. Every time he scheduled an appointment, he asked for Shiro. Lance was curious about him. He was handsome enough, though he wondered why his hair was styled into a mullet-type tragedy when Shiro was quite possibly one of the best hairstylists Lance knew. The man was an enigma- a silent question mark in Lance’s month, only to be pondered over during random quiet moments.

                But it was when Shiro unexpectedly became sick and Lance and Allura divided half of his appointments amongst each other that Lance finally received the opportunity to figure out the unnamed mullet man.

 

\---

 

                It was a lazy weekend. The rain pattered lightly against the roof of the salon and added a nice ambiance to the soft music humming through the radio. Lance hummed along to it as he cleaned his supplies, getting ready for his next appointment.

                Shiro had the flu and with such a handsy job it seemed he would be out of commission, against his wishes, until he was no longer contagious. Lance and Allura informed all of his appointments of the change and those who remained for the day, they split evenly amongst themselves.

                Lance’s next appointment was with one of Shiro’s. A Keith Kogane. Someone he saw regularly on the schedule. And in the back of his mind, he wondered if it was the man he had never spoken to before.

                Lo and behold, five minutes later the one who walked in was none other than the enigma himself. Lance tamped down his satisfaction at seeing him and smiled largely for him.

                “Keith, right?” he asked as he swiveled the styling chair he worked with towards him. “Come right this way.”

                Keith smiled at him, small and awkward and stumbled into the seat. He was patient as Lance put the cape over him and retrieved his scissors.

                “Okay, so what are we dealing with here?” Lance asked. “I’ve seen Shiro trimming your hair before is that what you’re looking for still?”

                “Yeah, just a trim,” Keith said. “A couple inches or so.”

                He reached out to feel what he was working with.

                Lance had touched a lot of hair in his life. But none of it had ever been as soft as what Keith presented him. He tried not to gape as he continued. It felt like cotton, or silk, or some other spectacular cloth he’d forgotten to think of.

                “Do you want a wash?”

                Keith shook his head.

                “Okay, great you’re making this easy.”

                Lance got to work. He usually spoke when the customer seemed to be at least a modicum of talkative but each attempt he made at conversation with Keith resulted in a one word response. Lance let him be, but still puzzled over the enigma that was now named.

                Lance was done in ten minutes and he despaired over the lack of anything he had learned of Keith.

               

\---

 

                The next month, Keith was back again. But his hair was being cut by Shiro.

                Lance shouted from where he was working with his own customer. “Keith! Nice to see you again!”

                Shiro gave him the Look. The dad one that made Lance feel like he’d just committed a sin. He hadn’t meant to disturb the customers, he simply wanted to figure the man out. Who exactly was Keith Kogane?

                Apparently someone who didn’t like being called to attention. Everyone in the salon turned their eyes to where he was. He scowled and ducked his head, before practically racing to where Shiro was, cape at the ready.

                Lance filed that information away, before turning back to his own customer and chattering with her about how bouncy her hair was.

                The next month, Lance was much more subtle about his greeting to Keith. Lance was displeased to see Keith cringe when he laid eyes on him, as if he were about to be struck. But Lance nearly smiled at him and waved once before continuing to sweep his work space free of hair. He saw Keith staring at him with wide eyes from the mirror, before waving back once and stuffing his hands in his pockets.

                The month after that, Lance had nothing to do. He was in between appointments, lounging around the salon and talking with his coworkers. He was sharing the space with Hunk and Shiro. Hunk was busy with a chatterbox of a woman, his concentration split between her words and the bleaching of her hair. Lance deemed it best to leave him be for the time, leaving him to pester Shiro.

                “I have an appointment soon,” Shiro said.”With _Keith._ ”

                “Really?” Lance studied his nails. They were his favorite color. He had rediscovered it and he didn’t think he had ever seen their natural color since.

                “Really,” Shiro sighs. “You should know, ever since that incident with you shouting at him he hasn’t been too pleased with you.”

                Lance groans. “I was just trying to get to know him. He’s the only regular I don’t actually _know_ , it’s killing me.”

                “Well, I don’t even know him very well, Lance. I wouldn’t try to pry into his life too much.”

                It was then that the door creaked open and revealed none other than Keith. Shiro peeled the awaiting cape from the chair and smiled at Keith as he made his way over. For a moment, Lance almost left. For a moment, he nearly gave up on his conquest. But then Keith glanced at him and nodded to the both of them and Lance suddenly felt his back seal itself to the small counter behind him.

                “Hey, Keith, how’s it going?” Lance asked once Keith had seated himself. Shiro gathered his supplies, but was none too subtle about the fact that he was listening in.

                “Good, thanks,” Keith said after a moment that was a tad too long to not be unusual. Then after another moment of silence he continued. “How about you?”

                Lance nearly combusted. “I’m great, thanks for asking!”

                Shiro’s lips twitched up into a smile. “Don’t you have work to do?”

                “Nope, everything is cleaned and my appointment canceled so I have nothing to do but bother you.”

                “Sorry, Keith,” Shiro said with a huff. “Looks like there’s going to be a third tagging along.”

                Keith glanced at Lance through the mirror. “It’s fine.”

                Lance slipped into an easy conversation with Shiro. He glanced at both Keith and him as he spoke, and even though Keith didn’t speak once, Lance felt as if he were part of the conversation too. It was peaceful, relaxing. And the ten minutes that it took to trim Keith’s hair dried up all too quickly.

                Lance left them when Shiro led Keith to the front counter to ring him up and schedule yet another appointment. Lance was screwing around with Hunk when Shiro came over to him, smiling.

                “Keith said he wouldn’t mind either me or you to cut his hair from now on,” Shiro said. “And being the benevolent friend that I am I scheduled him for a day with you.”

                Lance’s eyes widened. “Holy crow.”

                Even though Lance had learned nothing more of Keith that day, it certainly felt like a victory.

 

\---

 

                The next month brought Keith blowing into their door once more. Lance was ready for him. He set up in the seat Shiro usually used this time, after begging for permission. Keith smiled at him as he walked in.

                Lance draped the cape over Keith’s shoulder and may have spent a moment too long fussing with his hair. To make sure it wouldn’t be caught while he fastened it.

                “No wash, right?” Lance asked.

                Keith was silent for a moment and Lance twirled the scissors in his fingers.

                “I actually think I want to try one today,” Keith answered.

                Lance smiled. “Perfect.”

                He led Keith to the back of the salon, where their sinks were. He busied himself with setting a towel down and warming the water as Keith reclined back. Lance smiled down at him once the water was warm and ran his damp hands through his soft hair.

                “So how have you been, Keith?” Lance asked. Keith’s hair was thick, and it took some time to get it thoroughly wet.

                “Good,” Keith said. “How about you?”

                “I”ve been great!” Lance said. He carried on about his day, glancing at Keith’s face every once in a while, to make sure he wasn’t overdoing it. But he didn’t seem to much mind. Although, it was hard to tell when his eyes were closed and his breath steady enough for Lance to wonder if he had fallen asleep.

                When Lance lapsed into silence once more Keith peeked his eyes open.

                “Why’d you stop talking? I didn’t think you had it in you.” He smiled as he spoke. Lance nearly died on the spot. He loved banter, possibly more than himself.

                “ _Excuse_ me,” Lance said. He smiled as he rinsed away the last of the soap. Keith’s hair was heavy in his palms. He was almost unable to part with it, as he grabbed the towel and began to dry his hair.

                “You’re a pretty quiet guy, I thought you might like some silence,” Lance said.

                Keith shrugged as best he could in his position. “I don’t mind when you talk.”

                “You’re going to regret saying that,” Lance said. He gently nudged Keith’s head, as he put the shampoo and conditioner away.

                Keith wrinkled his nose as he sat up. “I smell so _fruity_. What have you done to me?”

                Lance snorted. “The fruity hairdresser likes fruity smelling shampoos- what a surprise.”

                Keith stared at him for so long he was prepared to retract any thought of ever liking him, ever. “You’re gay?” he finally said.

                “Bisexual,” Lance replied. Keith stared at him some more and Lance felt his hackles rise. “Is there a problem with that?”

                “What? No, no- oh my god,” Keith said. “I’m gay too. I mean, like, exclusively into men.”

                Lance immediately let his walls fall down once more. He still couldn’t quite let go of the long _look_ Keith had given him. It was odd. But then again, Keith was a little odd too.

                 “Really? Got a boyfriend?” Lance said with a wink. He regretted his decision almost immediately.

                Keith snorted and shook his head. Maybe Lance didn’t regret asking after all.

                When Keith sat down once more, Lance got to work with brushing out his hair. He took longer than was completely necessary, but Keith’s eyes were closed again and Lance was entirely too bisexual to cope with it. He stared in front of him, in the mirror that shamelessly revealed to him how beautiful Keith actually was, even with his hair damp and flat against his head, not at all fluffed up like it usually was.

                Lance nearly snapped his hand back too quickly when he realized he was more raking his fingers through Keith’s hair than brushing it out. He had never been so unprofessional in his entire life. He had to hold himself back from groaning.

                “Okay, time to buzz this baby off,” he said as he retrieved his scissors.

                Keith finally blinked his eyes open slowly. “If you do that, I will never return and give you a bad review on Yelp.”

                Lance laughed and snipped his scissors. “It may just be worth it.”

                “Do you really hate my hair that much?” Keith said. His lips were slanted up in a lop-sided smile. Lance’s soul ascended into heaven.

                “I do wonder- why a mullet of all things?” Lance began working, meticulously cutting the ends to just the perfect length.

                Keith snorted. “It’s not a mullet, and _I_ happen to like how it looks on me.”

                “Whatever you say.” Lance rolled his eyes but nudged Keith on the back of the head even as he did. “I kind of agree it looks good on you if I’m being honest.”

                Keith chuckled, but something about it seemed constricted. It was too airy to be Keith’s laugh. So Lance found himself shutting up and internally throttling himself.

                He let himself lapse into silence. He lost everything behind Keith’s thick hair. His fingers slid through his damp hair like they ran through silk. It was therapeutic for him and he wondered if he might die without the feeling of Keith’s hair under, in between, over his fingers.

                Lance might have just unwisely spent their entire appointment in his concentrated silence if he hadn’t notice Keith wiggling in his seat. His eyes flicked towards the mirror where he saw Keith gazing intently at his lap. His brows were furrowed and he chewed on his lip as he squirmed underneath Lance’s hands.

                “So what kind of work do you do?” Lance asked. He’d wondered if he’d guessed correctly. But when Keith’s eyes snapped back up to his and they made eye contact through the glass of the mirror, Lance had no need to wonder anymore.

                “Uh, I’m a student, studying to be a veterinarian,” Keith said. “The kind that works with your standard pets?”

                “Really?” Lance perked up and paused his clipping for a moment. “That’s awesome, do you love animals?”

                Keith’s eyes widened and he grinned as wide as Lance had ever seen him. But Keith caught himself and looked down, obscuring Lance from any view of his face. Then and only then did Lance return to his own work. It was still a slow process, tearing his gaze from Keith’s hidden face. Lance despaired to find that he was nearly done with the trim.

                “Yeah, they’re great. I honestly couldn’t imagine doing anything else,” Keith said quietly.

                Lance smiled softly. “I know the feeling.”

                Keith raised his eyes. “You feel the same way about cutting hair?”

                Lance scoffed. “Well, not just _cutting hair_. I like doing people’s nails, and makeup is great. Skin care is fun too. Just, cosmetology in general is my thing. I tried being a business boy but I don’t think I’ve ever hated anything more in my life.”

                Keith studied him. “Yeah, you’d look pretty bad in a suit.”

                “I’m pretty sure a lab coat and scrubs aren’t too flattering on you either, princess,” Lance said. He put the scissors down on the counter and had to hold back a sigh. At least there was one more step.

                “It’s not flattering on _anybody_ ,” Keith fired back. Lance laughed and dug his blow dryer from the depths of his cabinet. He plugged it in and placed it on the counter for a moment while he retrieved a heat protectant. He would never forgive himself if he burned Keith’s perfect, fluffy hair even a little.

                “Almost free,” he said as he worked the protectant into Keith’s hair. Lance relished in the time it took. He nearly sighed when he had to disentangle his fingers and reach for the blow dryer.

                He was quick to grab another lock of hair once the hair dryer was blasting and dutifully dried Keith as best he could. As slowly as he could, if he was being honest. It would have been much quicker to just make a mess of his hair for the sake of brevity, but instead Lance focused on each individual layer. He even took a styling brush to it, to straighten it out a bit and have an excuse for the amount of time he was taking.

                “So how long have you been studying?” Lance asked.

                “I’m in my first year of veterinary school,” Keith said. “I’ve got four years of undergrad behind me, but I still have a few more years of suffering before I can really say I’m a vet.”

                Lance laughed. “Good luck with that.”

                “I’m going to need more than luck. Maybe a shot of straight caffeine and vodka.”

                Lance snorted. “I hate to admit it, but you can be really funny, mullet.”

                “That’s probably the most back-handed compliment I’ve ever received.” Keith rolled his eyes.

                “Only for you, sweetheart.”

                Lance regrettably turned the blow dryer off, now done with his task.

                “Well, looks like that’s it, let’s get you checked out.”

                He freed Keith from the cape with a flourish. He led them to the register and rung up his total. He didn’t add the price of the wash he did, but that was his little secret.

                It was entirely mundane their transaction. Nothing happened. Keith didn’t leap across the counter and beg Lance to cut his hair for the rest of his life. He didn’t conjure a rose from thin air and hand it to Lance with a sheepish smile. But what Keith said next was just as good, in Lance’s opinion. Although, a rose from him someday would be nice.

                “Could my next appointment be with you again?” Keith asked.

                Lance grinned. “Of course.”

                A minute was spared to figure out their schedules and then Keith left with a wave and a smile. Lance mimicked him, even though he felt like collapsing to the floor.

                Which is what he did once the door shut firmly behind Keith.

                “Guys, I’m _pining_ for him,” Lance wailed.

                Shiro and Allura merely laughed at his misfortune.

 

\---

 

                Lance was entirely prepared to wait an entire month to see Keith once more. He wasn’t, actually, but he accepted his fate with all the grace and dignity he was capable of. Which called for lots of whining and waxing poetic about Keith’s soft hair.

                His colleagues suffered for two weeks before they were all finally released from their hell.

                The day was spotless, in fact Lance could say with complete accuracy that there was not a cloud in the sky. The sun beat happily through their windows at the front and Lance was quite satisfied absorbing the warmth like a cat. He was lounging in one of the chairs, in a rare moment of peace when the door swung open.

                Lance hopped to his feet, saying a silent goodbye to his minute of laziness, before wandering into view of the front door, which was obscured by a wall from where he sat. When he rounded the corner he was faced with none other than Keith Kogane.

                Keith smiled at him in his lopsided way and said, “You take walk-ins, right?”

                Lance was speechless for one horrifying moment. But when he finally gathered his wits about him, he leaned against the wall and smirked. “I dunno, we usually only accept _cute_ walk-ins.”

                Lance could practically hear Hunk rolling his eyes behind him.

                Lance led him to Keith’s usual chair. Shiro was off that day so he figured using his chair without permission wouldn’t be too heinous of a sin.

                “How’d you know if either me or Shiro would be working today?” Lance asked as he retrieved a cape and draped it over Keith’s shoulders.

                “I, uh, kind of got a peak at your schedule when I was here last, and I kind of burned my hair while cooking so I figured I should drop by.”

                Lance laughed. “Oh my god, where?”

                When he brushed away Keith’s hair to fasten the cape it was soft as ever. He peaked into the mirror but there seemed to be no trace of burns in the front of his hair either.

                “Um, back there on the tips?” Keith said. He didn’t look at Lance when he spoke.

                Lance hummed. He didn’t mention that he could see nor feel anything wrong with his hair.

                “So you want a trim again?” Lance asked as he played with Keith’s hair.

                “Please.”

                “How much?”

                “An inch or two?” Keith said. He glanced at Lance for only a moment before looking away again.

                “I think an inch is all you need,” Lance said. He kept his eyes fastened on Keith as he went across the room to retrieve his scissors.

                As he rummaged through his drawer Hunk pulled him to the side and whispered. “Okay, I’m almost one-hundred percent sure his hair isn’t burnt at all- you realize that right?”

                “I’m not an _idiot_ ,” Lance said. “Of course I realize that. The problem is I don’t know what to _do_ about it.”

                “Um, take him outside and ask him on a date?” Hunk said.

                If Lance had been drinking something he would have choked… or done a spit-take.

                “I-I can’t do that, what the hell, man!” Lance said as he futilely tried to stop his cheeks from turning a nice pink.

                “Dude, he obviously stopped by to see you, trust me. _Do it.”_

                Hunk patted him on the back and returned to cleaning.

                Lance swallowed thickly, before turning around and marching to Keith. He held his scissors as if they were his last line of defense against the onslaught of what ifs that were suddenly attacking him. Relentless.

                “Alright, here we go,” Lance said. He sighed as he picked up a lock of Keith’s hair.

                He stared at it for a long moment, a very long moment, before he set it down gently.

                “Do you really want me to cut your hair?” Lance asked. He hesitated for a moment before adding. “We both know none of it’s damaged.”

                Keith tripped to his feet and swiveled around. His mouth and eyes were wide.

                “I-I’m sorry-” he began. He almost said more but Lance placed a hand on his arm.

                “Hey, it’s fine,” he said. He glanced at Coran and Allura, who were dealing with customers and tightened his grip a bit on Keith. “Let’s get some air, okay?”

                Keith nodded and allowed Lance to free him of the cape before letting him practically race outside. Lance followed, after carelessly tossing his scissors and cape onto the chair Keith had once occupied.

                “I’m sorry,” Keith said once Lance stepped through the door. It felt too hot outside, much too hot without the blasting air conditioning they’d once been in the comfort of. “I’m really sorry if that made you uncomfortable or something, god, it must be really obvious what an idiot I am now.”

                Lance stepped forward. “Hey, hey it’s fine. There’s nothing to apologize for.”

                Keith looked at him for a moment, his eyes glistening in a way that Lance did not enjoy. It was much too different from when he had spoken about animals. “I just wanted to see you again.”

                Lance’s breath caught in his throat. “I wanted to see you again, too.”

                Keith growled. “You can be such an idiot sometimes.” He kicked at the ground in front of him. “I wanted to see you because I _like_ you, Lance.” When he was met with only silence he continued. “ _That’s_ why I said I was sorry, okay? I’m sorry. And I get if you want me to find a new hairdresser or whatever.”

                Keith’s jaw was clenched and his arms were crossed. But it was only when he sniffled that Lance jumped into action.

                He didn’t touch Keith, but oh, he came so, so close. “Keith- I- oh my god, I _am_ an idiot. You don’t need to find a new hairdresser because- because I like you too.”

                Keith raised his gaze. And that was the glisten Lance wanted. The one where Keith’s eyes seemed to sparkle, as if the stars themselves were reflecting off of his beautiful irises.

                “I’m gonna kiss you now,” Keith said before throwing himself at Lance.

                Lance caught him and immediately slipped his hands into Keith’s hair as he closed his eyes. Then he felt it; the best first kiss he had ever received. Keith’s firm, chapped lips pressed against his and Lance felt himself melt. He effectively entangled his fingers into Keith’s soft hair. He sighed as Keith tilted their heads just a bit more. He felt good pressed against Lance and when he pulled away it was all too soon.

                “I’ve been wanting to do that for months,” Keith confessed. He pressed one more kiss to Lance’s lips. “Will you walk me back to my car?”

                Lance nodded eagerly. Keith clasped their hands together as they walked.

                “So, when do you think you can make it to your next appointment?”

                Keith punched his arm. “That better be you crappily asking me out on a date.”

                “It was,” Lance said with a smirk. “Don’t worry that pretty little mullet of yours.”

                Keith rolled his eyes. “You’re insufferable.”

                “You’re adorable,” Lance countered.

                Keith groaned, but Lance earned another kiss for his troubles.         

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> [my tumblr](https://memeclains.tumblr.com/) in case you wanna scream at me a bit about these two idiots :D


End file.
